


Our Someday

by cori_the_bloody



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fix-It, One Shot, except that it's totally canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:32:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6669760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cori_the_bloody/pseuds/cori_the_bloody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Three seconds ago, Clarke had been euphoric. Three seconds ago, she’d felt like bursting into song or dancing through the halls of the Polis tower.<br/>Three seconds ago, Clarke would have said she was the luckiest girl on earth.<br/>Because, three seconds ago, Lexa’s life wasn’t in danger."</p><p> </p><p>  <i>A 3.07 fix-it based on the prompt: 'you nearly died' kiss</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Someday

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters or the universe, just having fun with them.  
>  **Author's Note:** This is unbeta'd, so please excuse any errors. Enjoy!

Three seconds ago, Clarke had been euphoric. Three seconds ago, she’d felt like bursting into song or dancing through the halls of the Polis tower.

Three seconds ago, Clarke would have said she was the luckiest girl on earth.

Because, three seconds ago, Lexa’s life wasn’t in danger.

As she and Titus settle Lexa on her bed, Clarke gets the suffocating feeling that she’s being held under icy water. Her hands are frozen and useless, a glacial dread has seized her breath from her chest, and the frantic yelling around her is muffled, as if her ears are full.

Lexa’s pained expression only chills her further. She stands, rooted in place, shaking her head slowly from side to side.

When Titus steps forward to touch the gushing wound in Lexa’s stomach, though, something in her snaps.

“Don’t you _dare_ touch her,” Clarke says, low and venomous as she shoves him away from the bed.

Everyone shifts their focus to her, shocked and confused. That’s when Clarke notices guards have flooded into the room. There’re so many people...waiting for her next move...expecting her take charge and save the day.

That’s all anyone ever expects from her -- leadership, sacrifice, know-how.

Except Lexa. Instead of asking or expecting, Lexa gives. Lexa consistently risks her life to protect Clarke’s people.

Lexa’s currently slipping away for that very reason.

Clarke owes her so much, but she’s not a miracle worker. She can’t make bullet wounds disappear.

“Not that I give a fuck how this plays out,” Murphy says from the corner of the room, spitting out his gag and tilting his head lazily to the side, “but shouldn’t you guys be pissing yourselves to get the healer what she needs?”

“Someone subdue him,” Titus commands, sneering at his captive.

Clarke holds out her arm, stopping the guards who rush to do just that. Her eyes lock on Murphy and she gives him a manic smile.

In response, he leans away. “What? What’d I say?”

She shakes her head, too overwhelmed to explain that he just gave her the most amazing gift. How could she have forgotten...no time for that now.

She turns to the guards. “I need to cauterize the wound. You,” she points to one of them, “find me something metal and heat it till it glows red. You - get me a basin of water, alcohol, and clean bandages. And you - get this man into captivity.” Clarke gestures to Titus. “He attempted to take the Commander’s life.”

Titus opens his mouth, ready to protest, but the guards are already carrying out Clarke’s demands, whisking him away before he can speak.

Once that’s taken care of, Clarke turns to Lexa and brushes a strand of hair gently from her forehead.

“Cl-Clarke,” Lexa says, struggling.

“Shh,” she soothes. “Save your energy. I’m going to make this right. We’ll have our someday, okay? I just need you to hang on.” A tear rolls down the bridge of her nose. “Promise me? Promise me you’ll hang on.”

“F-for you...,” Lexa closes her eyes and draws in a ragged breath before continuing, “I-I’d cling to a...a thousand lifetimes.”

Clarke lets out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob and presses her forehead into Lexa’s.

“You’re so dramatic.”

###

A few hours later, after the sun has set and Murphy’s been cut from his bonds and escorted to the bathing chambers at Clarke’s command, she and Lexa are alone.

Clarke’s done everything she can with the supplies at her disposal: the wound is clean, the bleeding has slowed to a near-stop, and Lexa’s abdomen is tightly wrapped in gauze.

Now there’s only waiting with the Commander as she rests -- sleeping fitfully and moaning every time she tries to shift her position. Her skin is too pale, and Clarke knows she’ll need a blood transfusion to fully heal.

But she’s breathing.

The beautiful rise and fall of Lexa’s chest settles Clarke like a lullaby and, even though she fights against the exhaustion in her body -- even though she has no idea where Octavia is or what’s been done with Titus; even though there are so many unanswered questions and chaos lurks at every corner of this still moment -- she curls up against Lexa’s side and lets herself be dragged toward unconsciousness.

###

When she wakes with a jolt -- the memories rushing back to her in a moment of blind panic -- Lexa is there. The world is still blanketed in darkness (though a few long-suffering candles continue to burn, illuminating the room in a soft haze), the tower is quiet, and Lexa rubs Clarke’s back with a steady hand as she tries to find her breath.

“I’m here,” Lexa says. “Clinging, as promised.”

Once her heart rate slows back to a healthy pace, Clarke says, “You better be doing more than that.”

Lexa laughs, but the noise sounds strangled. Clarke whips her head around to examine her face and finds the Commander’s crying.

“What’s wrong? Does it hurt?”

“No,” Lexa says, then pauses, considering. “Well, yes. Very much. Though that’s not why I’m crying.”

Clarke’s brow furrows, but she doesn’t say anything as she shifts to sit cross-legged beside Lexa and lift her blood-soaked shirt to examine the bandages. The dark spot over the wound is menacing, but it hasn’t gotten any larger.

The bleeding’s stopped.

“We need to change these,” Clarke says, already leaning over Lexa’s abdomen to start unwrapping.

“Clarke,” Lexa whispers as she catches her wrist, stilling her movement.

Lexa’s fingers are unnervingly cold. Moving her is inadvisable, but they really have to get her to Mount Weather for the medical equipment...Clarke wonders if Aden would be willing to loan the Commander some of his blood. She’s not sure that anyone else is qualified. Who knows what happens when you mix nightblood with the standard variety, but now doesn’t seem like an appropriate time for experimentation--

“Clarke,” Lexa repeats.

She can feel Lexa’s eyes on her face -- it feels as though she can read the thoughts racing through her brain -- and something about the way she rolls the _laaark_ part of Clarke’s name has her breaking down.

“You could have died,” Clarke says, suddenly wailing.

“I didn’t,” Lexa says, cupping Clarke’s face in both her hands.

“But you _almost did_. I’ve been such an idiot, for float’s sake. I kept thinking we’d have more time, that I could take as much as I needed to feel whole again, but there’s never enough time on the ground. I should have known. I should have -- but you’re alive. Here you are, so alive!”

Lexa laughs breathlessly and more tears stream down her face.

Without further stalling, Clarke collapses into her, threading her fingers into Lexa’s hair and kissing the tip of Lexa’s nose, her lips, the corners of her lips, the soft space between her eyebrows where her Commander symbol is usually situated, her lips again, both her eyelids, her lips her lips her lips.

“Clarke,” Lexa groans out, desperate and hungry and, fuck, there has to be something seriously wrong with Clarke for her to feel so needy in this moment, but she does. She needs Lexa now, every day...for every day of forever.

“This is it,” she says between kisses.

“This is what?” Lexa asks, smiling. Their teeth clash together, but Clarke couldn’t care less.

“This is our someday,” Clarke says against Lexa’s lips. “I won’t wait a second longer. No matter what happens next, this is our someday. We have each other from here on out.”

Lexa sighs into Clarke’s mouth. “Yes, our thousand lifetimes starts this very moment.”

“We’ll need at least that many,” Clarke agrees.

Their lips come together again -- softer and slower -- as Clarke places her hand over Lexa’s eagerly beating heart.


End file.
